A short story about the aftermath of the Métis Rebellion and an escape to the North West.

It was a moonless, damp night in early summer. I was young then and did not understand that Mother was very worried. As she sat sewing by the lantern light she continued to glance at the cabin door and shift on the bench. Father was still not home.
At that time and for many years after I still believed that our father – our guide and anchor – could do as he chose. I expect that Gabriel, even though he is four years older than I, had similar feelings about the man who was our beginning and ending. As the years passed we both grew to understand how serious Father was about his family and their care. We eventually learned from his teachings that the respected leader is more concerned for those who follow than with him self.